


Not my housekeeper

by handwritten (onefromanotherworld)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Potterlock, just a hint, the worst witch - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-28
Updated: 2013-03-28
Packaged: 2017-12-06 19:22:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/739222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onefromanotherworld/pseuds/handwritten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John discovers that his landlady has a secret.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not my housekeeper

**Author's Note:**

> I've been re-watching The Worst Witch and reading Potterlock and one thing led to another. I only hope to make you smile. I may expand a little this universe but we'll see, for now it's only a one-shot ficlet. None of the characters belong to me or you wouldn't know about them. Comments are always appreciated :)

It was a Friday when John noticed for the first time that Mrs. Hudson might not be just a sweet lady who happened to rent him and the only consulting detective a flat. It was late in the afternoon, he had just arrived from grocery shopping, cursing Sherlock for the upteenth time for not deigning to help him for once when suddenly he heard Mrs. Hudson in her flat, she was chanting something in... was that Latin? He left the bags by the door and went to check in on her, she might be having a stroke or something.

'Mrs. Hudson, is everything alright?' he knocked. A crash, a mumble. He knocked again, a little worried now. 'Mrs. Hudson?'

She finally opened the door in her nightgown, completely unfazed. 'Hi, John. Is everything alright, dear?'

Confused, he said, 'Erm, yes, I was actually wondering if you were fine, I thought I heard you speaking in Latin'.

Mrs. Hudson simply smiled, seeming a little confused. 'Oh, that! I was just preparing an old family balm for my hip, you see.'

John blinked. 'Ok... and what was the Latin about?'

'I actually don't know, dear, maybe it was the radio? I'm listening to the opera...', she pointed towards her kitchen while muttering something under her breath. John could swear that he hadn't heard any music before that moment but it was true, _La Bohème_ could be heard from the back of the flat. 'Is there anything else you needed, dear? Would you like to come in for a cup of tea?' She opened the door just a bit more.

'No, that's quite alright. I'd better take the groceries upstairs. Have a goodnight, Mrs. Hudson.' He nodded and went to pick up the bags.

'You too, dear. Night night.' and she closed the door.

 

*****

Sherlock was out all night, God knew where, so it was until next morning that John had the opportunity to tell him about the incident.

'Something strange happened with Mrs. Hudson last night', he started, putting a cup of tea in front of the detective.

'Mmh? Nothing that will make us homeless, I expect', Sherlock replied taking a sip.

'No! Of course not! It's just that... when I came in yesterday, she was speaking in Latin. She says it must have been the radio but operas are in Italian, not Latin, right? And I swear there wasn't any music on until she mentioned it. I just think it's weird, that's all', he said sitting down on his chair.

Sherlock took a long time drinking his tea before answering. 'There's nothing to be worried about, John. Trust me', and without another word, he took his violin and started playing, finishing any attempt of conversation.

 

*****

John tried to forget the whole incident but something kept bothering him on the back of his mind. Over the next few days, he started noticing little details about Mrs. Hudson: how she always seemed to make sure no one looked into her cupboards, how he never saw her go out or come in when she visited her friends, how she always had tea at the ready... and above all, the fact that she seemed to talk in Latin fairly regularly when she thought no one was listening.

 

*****

He finally learned the truth a couple of weeks after the affair. It was noon on a Saturday, he and Sherlock had been out until 2am wrapping up a case. While he would have loved to stay in bed a little while longer, his thirst won in the end so he entered the kitchen to find the dishes washing themselves in the sink and Mrs. Hudson, looking to the other side, moving her hands while chanting in bloody Latin something like 'altus, alta, alto, something'. Suddenly, all the things on the kitchen surfaces started floating! And, as if nothing was out of the ordinary, she started wiping under the floating items. Then she spotted John and every single thing came crashing down at the same time when she gave a little shriek and said 'John! How long... What did you...'

John lifted a finger to silence her and give himself some time to gather his thoughts. He obviously hadn't seen that, he must still be dreaming, right? Or maybe it was a side effect of one of Sherlock's experiments? He realized he should say something so he started 'How? What?' but what exactly could he say?

Before he could form a coherent thought, Sherlock came in ruffling his hair and bringing his dressing gown closer to him. 'What is going on here?' He saw the mess on the floor and the dishes still washing themselves in the sink. 'Oh, Mrs. Hudson, I told you not to do this while John was in the house'.

'I'm sorry, dear, but you came in so late that I thought I'd help you a bit. I'm not your housekeeper, mind you, but the place looked terrible. Let me take care of this and we all can discuss everything while having a nice cup of tea. _Reversus Revolvus_...' but before she could finish, Sherlock interrupted 'It takes too long that way, allow me.'

Just then John managed to come out of his shock. 'What? You mean you knew she could do that?' he said pointing at Mrs. Hudson, which was terribly rude of him but he was too confused to care. The landlady just stood there smiling at him apologetically.

'Obviously' said Sherlock taking a wooden stick out of his dressing gown pocket and pointing it at the mess ' _Reparo_ '. Out of nowhere, every broken thing started mending itself. John's eyes went wide, he looked from Mrs. Hudson to the things to Sherlock and back again. Before anyone could utter another sound his eyes went to the back of his head and he passed out.


End file.
